


Superficialities

by misura



Category: Chuck (TV), Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: fandom_stocking, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-11
Updated: 2011-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-04 15:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/395587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Casey in Atlantis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Superficialities

**Author's Note:**

> um, so I started this at least five months ago, for someone's stocking. I don't remember whose, though. *sigh*

Casey doesn't quite know at which point someone adds a _'deals well with people who have supercomputers in their head and are a little weird'_ (where 'weird' is a nice way of saying 'geeky, dorky and very bad at keeping himself out of trouble') to his personnel file.

If he'd known the 'when', he'd probably also be able to figure out the 'who'. And if he'd be able to figure out the 'who', he might know on whose office door to knock in order to have a friendly chat about assignments, assessments and the meaning of the word 'pain'.

So, really, Casey supposes maybe his file isn't that completely full of rubbish after all.

 

The Stargate project requires the kind of clearance Casey thought they only gave to people who are either not expected to come back alive, or supposed to be spending the rest of their life in a secure facility. He'd like to think he's deserved better than either.

He gets some files on the people already there (thin ones, barely covering the essentials - stuff like hair-color, eye-color, blood type, compelling reason not to kill them when they get on his nerves too much) and one enormous file on this guy Casey's supposed to protect.

Casey figures it's just an attempt to intimidate him, impress upon him the importance of his mission. He figures he's seen and done it all by now - and he's even still got the green shirt to prove it.

If there's any reason why he should be reading an essay titled _'Why I Am, In Fact, the Most Intelligent Form of Life in This Class (and Probably Also This Town, If Not Also This Whole Country, and Maybe Even the World)'_ by one Rodney McKay, Canadian, Casey doesn't see it.

His last day on Earth, he spends in a warehouse where the army keeps all those toys they don't tell people without the proper clearance to see them about. They tell him he can take anything he wants, so long as he can carry it, which seems pretty decent for a bunch of pencil-pushers, even if Casey'd sort of really liked to have taken that miniature tank for a spin.

Still, he gets some nice new guns and enough ammo to last him for half a year or so.

 

Casey's first impression of McKay is that McKay is a jerk.

"Doctor McKay? Colonel John Casey." He doesn't salute. McKay is a civilian.

"Oh good, another trained monkey with a gun," McKay says, to no one in particular, and then, to the guy who's shaken Casey's hand when he came in and told him 'welcome to Atlantis'. "Just what we need around here. What is _wrong_ with you people?"

Casey's second impression is that there's no real reason to revise his first one after meeting the man in person. 

 

In theory, Casey is to follow McKay around at all times, to make sure he remains safe - which Casey assumes means protecting him against people who (rightfully) want to kill him and making sure he doesn't accidentally cut himself while shaving or cutting his vegetables.

In practice, McKay wanders off (he probably thinks of it as 'sneaking away' himself) and Casey doesn't bother going after him, because there's nothing at all dangerous around, unless you count Casey, in which case: the more distance between him and McKay, the better.

Casey gets to know Teyla (who is competent and promises to give him a nice workout when he wants one, which is whenever he's spent more than three hours in the company of McKay), Sheppard (who is in charge in a laid back kind of way that makes Casey like him) and several other people who have been exposed to McKay for over a year and yet have somehow managed not to strangle him.

"You," one of the scientists say. "I remember you from somewhere."

Casey grunts non-committally.

"Prague, yes? You were in Prague."

Casey shrugs non-committally.

"You saved many people. Many people," the man repeats, holding out his hand. "Radek Zelenka."

Casey shakes the man's hand non-committally.

"It is an honor," Zelenka says, beaming at him.

Casey idly wonders if Zelenka knows of any ways to deal with McKay, then decides he probably doesn't.

 

"His gun is even bigger than yours," McKay tells Sheppard at a volume that indicates he's not even _trying_ not to be overheard by Casey. "What's with that, huh?"

"It's just a gun, Rodney."

Sheppard is laid back even in the face of McKay. Makes Casey wonder what the man's like in combat.

"It's not just a gun," McKay says. "It's something you military types use to compensate."

Sheppard gets even more laid back. Casey wonders if maybe it's an act.

"Aren't you jealous?" McKay asks. "I mean, he only just got here. Not like he's _done_ anything. You're jealous, aren't you? Maybe you should ask Elizabeth for a bigger gun. She likes you."

"It's just a gun, Rodney," Sheppard repeats. "No need to make a big deal about it. And anyway," he goes on, looking at Casey with a faint smile, "everybody knows it's not about the size. It's about what you can do with it."

McKay huffs. "Oh, fine, be that way. But I'm telling you right now, if our next new arrival is some hot-shot scientist, and you planned on giving him a bigger lab than mine, forget it. Size _does_ matter."

"No worries." Sheppard smiles at Casey. Casey doesn't scowl.

McKay goes to get some lunch, and Sheppard saunters over to where Casey's still standing. He half-expects Sheppard to lecture him about slacking off on his duty but instead Sheppard just looks at his gun for a few moments and then asks: "May I?"

Casey grunts and holds out the gun. Sheppard takes it, holds it like a man should hold a gun.

"Got some more stuff in my room, if you're interested," Casey offers.

Sheppard gives him this look like maybe he's wondering if Casey's inviting him to come see his guns, or inviting him to 'come see his guns'. "Sounds good."

 

And then there is the incident with the thing in the place which Casey never wants to think about again, although he respectfully suggests to the General that she should demote him for it. (She doesn't.)

Casey regains consciousness in the infirmary, to the sound of people arguing.

"This guy is supposed to be my _bodyguard_?" McKay.

"Is not you in the bed." Zelenka.

"Everybody makes mistakes. He'll know better next time." Sheppard.

"There's going to be a next time? Oh, wonderful. I can't wait," says McKay. "Maybe this time, he'll actually get someone killed."

 

"So I guess they probably didn't give you the lecture on how to recognize potentially dangerous alien lifeforms, huh?" Sheppard says, and this time, Casey's sure the laid backness is an act, because when someone under your command screws up badly enough to get himself killed and then has the bad grace to survive it, laid back is not the way to go. He's been there; he knows.

On the inside, Sheppard's yelling at him and calling him the stupidest piece of trash he's ever had the misfortune of setting eyes on. On the outside, Sheppard just smiles. "It's pretty simple, really."

Casey grunts. If Sheppard's not going to do this by the book, he sees no reason why _he_ should, either.

"If you don't know what it is, don't touch it." There's a hint of something sharper than friendliness to Sheppard's smile now. Casey likes that. "Don't pick it up. Don't smell it. Don't do anything else with it."

"Can I shoot it?" Casey asks, not quite joking.

"Officially? No."

Casey nods. That's clear enough, at least. "How many forms to fill out if I do?"

"Three," Sheppard says. "If you behave and I think you did the right thing, I'll give you the ones with some of the standard stuff already filled in."

 

McKay gets a little less annoying once Casey's back on duty. Casey thinks it's probably just that McKay figures anything he's got to say about Casey's intelligence has already been proven.

Sheppard invites him to lunch, and then to come read through some reports about the aliens the folks of Atlantis have run into over the course of their stay here.

"You could just ask him if he wants to have sex," McKay says, poking at the slice of pie on his plate with a suspicious expression on his face.

"I believe Colonel Sheppard enjoys the activity of courtship," Teyla says.

"Also, Colonel Sheppard enjoys people keeping their noses out of his personal life." Sheppard still looks only mildly annoyed though, as if he hadn't really expected anything else from McKay.

McKay looks entirely unimpressed by the rebuke. "I'm only trying to help."

"Thank you, Rodney. If I ever come to the point where I want your help, I'll let you know."

"You know anything about aliens?" Casey asks. He's not completely sure why he does it, really - it's just that maybe he'd like to see Sheppard get a bit less laid back for once.

"I - " McKay blinks. "Do I - know anything about aliens? Why, yes, I think I do."

"Doctor McKay is being modest." Teyla smiles at Casey as if she approves of this turn in the conversation. "Unusually so."

McKay looks slightly flustered. "Well, I wouldn't want to brag."

"Really." Sheppard smirks.

"Are you _hitting_ on me?" McKay sounds plaintive, as if being hit on is much the same as being picked on, with neither being at all welcome or deserved.

Casey shrugs. "Depends."

"Oh, I get it. This is your idea of a joke, isn't it?" McKay huffs and gets up. "Very funny. Now, if you'll excuse me, some of us have got _real_ work we should be getting on with."

McKay walks away. Sheppard sighs. Teyla frowns in slight disapproval at Casey.

"Doctor McKay does not deal well with ambivalency."

"No kidding," Casey says.

 

The thing is: in spite of what McKay seems to assume, Sheppard isn't exactly new territory to Casey. For all that he's been stuck in another galaxy for a good while, Sheppard's still military. Casey hasn't asked if Sheppard swings that way, and Sheppard hasn't told him - not explicitly, at any rate. There's other ways.

McKay is a whole bunch of things, but he's not military. Worse, he's a scientist. He's used to asking, and to telling. He's also still a jerk, but he's a jerk Casey happens to sort of like, in that way you sometimes get to like that one guy who can't seem to stop being annoying and insulting and gets under your skin in the worst possible way.

Clearly, if he wants to win, Casey needs a plan of attack.

 

" - and these crates need to go there." McKay points.

Casey grunts and puts down the crates in the exact spot McKay has pointed at.

"A little bit to the left," McKay says. He sounds a little annoyed, a little put-upon - not like he's enjoying making Casey drag crates, but rather like he wishes there was someone more competent around to do it. Casey might take offense, except that he's not an idiot and dragging crates is not an acitivity he strives to excel in.

He moves the crates to the left, then to the right, then to the front, then backwards, then to the left again, until finally, McKay seems satisfied.

"All right, let's see, what's next?" McKay does not drag crates. He claims it's not in his job description.

"I could give you a blowjob," Casey says.

McKay shakes his head, his back turned to Casey as he rummages about in some box. Casey's seen worse views. "I have a list here somewhere, I think. Just give me a moment and then I can - did you just offer me a - never mind. What did you say again? I've got the list." McKay holds up an old-fashioned clipboard. Casey wonders if there's really anything on it.

"I could give you a blowjob," he repeats. He doesn't add _'if you want one'_. Casey's not offering because he thinks McKay wants Casey to give him a blowjob; he's offering because _Casey_ wants to give McKay a blowjob.

"That's ... army slang, right?" McKay holds the clipboard like a shield. "I'm Canadian!"

Casey shrugs, deliberately casual. He's a spy; he knows how to bait. "You've got a list there?" He reaches; McKay steps back, eyes wide.

"You're not serious, are you?" Casey knows that look he's getting from McKay. It's the kind of look you get quite a lot when people know you're armed and dangerous and maybe interested in having sex with them. "You _are_ serious," McKay decides, all on his own, without needing any more prompting from Casey, which is probably a good thing, because Casey's willingness to ask for things only goes so far. It's not as if he can't get anyone else; it's just that McKay gets on his nerves in the exact opposite kind of way Sheppard does. It's not the best reason to offer someone a blowjob, but Casey's heard and used worse. "Why me? What did I do?"

"Look like you might be interested," Casey says, barely managing not to sigh.

"Oh." McKay looks half-relieved and half-surprised. "Well, yes. But - here? _Now_?"

"I'm open for other suggestions," Casey says.

 

Dinner for three in Sheppard's room does not seem the best place and time for some casual sex to Casey. McKay seems more relaxed though, and Sheppard doesn't look like he's here to watch some live porn. It's a little bit puzzling and a lot annoying, so Casey tries to concentrate on the food.

He's tasted worse. He's tasted better, too, but not outside of an army camp, and easy as it is to forget sometimes, Atlantis still isn't exactly a place for civilians - at least not ones that have nothing better to do than live regular lives that involve a nine-to-five job and kids and grocery shopping. (He wonders how Bartowski is doing, if he's doing all right, if he's managing to ha! keep out of trouble.)

"We've finished moving most of the crates," McKay says, sounding as proud as if he's actually been doing anything more than standing around, "oh, and the colonel offered me a blowjob."

Sheppard chokes on his - whatever it is they're having. (Casey keeps a strict 'don't ask, don't get told' policy on anything he eats.) It's a refreshingly un-laid back reaction.

"I didn't say 'yes', of course," McKay adds, looking faintly insulted.

Sheppard glowers at Casey for maybe two seconds, then closes his eyes and leans back, head resting against the wall. "Why didn't you let the nice man give you a blowjob, Rodney?"

"Well, you weren't there," McKay says. "It didn't seem appropriate."

Casey doesn't actually see Sheppard tense up. His guts tell him it's happened, but on the outside, there's nothing. Perhaps, Casey thinks, he's been underestimating the man from the start.

On the other hand, there's those times Sheppard's invited Casey to his room to look at a map or compare guns or whatever else folks in Atlantis apparently use to indicate they want to have sex. If McKay was there, too, all those times, watching, Casey's going to have to do something drastic. Resign, maybe, because if he can't even spot McKay, then he's clearly no longer cut out for this line of work.

"Why not?" Sheppard asks, his tone patient only in the sense that it hints Sheppard might run out of patience shortly.

McKay looks slightly exasperated. "It just didn't. I mean, I know we're not exclusive, but - "

Casey grunts. "You're dating?" Not quite the impression he got from Sheppard - or McKay for that matter, even if yes, Casey's picked up on a certain closeness between them. A bit like him and Bartowski, or him and Walker, if Walker'd been male, somewhat less than competent and extremely annoying.

"We've had sex, yes." Sheppard looks sideways, then back at McKay.

"We've had sex, _no_ ," McKay corrects him. "Having sex does not equal dating. Having sex is just ... just ... is there any dessert? I'm hungry."

"He's Canadian," Sheppard tells Casey, as he gets up, presumably to get dessert.

"So I heard," Casey says.

"I'm right here, you know," McKay says. "So, do I get to choose or something?"

Casey grunts. Sheppard looks amused.

"Because I think my choice should be based on performance and - "

Dinner in Sheppard's room may have not been such a bad occasion for casual sex after all, Casey thinks. At least theres a nice, soft bed nearby.

 

"So how about that dessert?" McKay asks, some while later.

Casey grunts and blindly reaches around for a pillow.

"You want it, you can go get it yourself," Sheppard says.


End file.
